Say Something
by Mrs Don Draper
Summary: An Anon requested "I can't get the image of Bruce holding a crying Tony out of my head" at avengerskink on LJ. Manly snuggling ensues. ***Non-canon character death***


That feeling of dread seeps in again. Like it's happening all over again. As if suffering through it once was enough. Just the single thought brings back that aching pain in his chest that makes it hard to breathe and think. That tight band across his lungs is back, too, squeezing out his air in a choking reminder that she is gone. Pepper is gone. The permanent kind of gone, and there is nothing that Tony's money, charm, or good looks can do to bring her back or prevent it from happening in the first place. It's an occurrence that is completely, utterly, devastatingly out of his hands.

A sob manages to escape his facade of calmness. He tries to fight back the tears that begin to well up.

"Tony?"

Either he doesn't hear him, or he chooses not to answer. It's no one else's business how he's feeling (like throwing up) or how he's coping (alcohol, weed) or who he is or is not speaking to (everyone).

"Tony?" Bruce tries again, resting his hand gently atop Tony's. The one that isn't holding a glass of Scotch. Tony violently jerks his hand away, doesn't even acknowledge that Bruce is now sitting next to him on the couch. Bruce is hurt, but it doesn't stop him from trying a third time.

"Tony, please talk to me. Or if you don't want to talk to me, talk to _someone_. I'm really worried about you."

Tony spares him a glance to see if he's actually being sincere. He's tired of the way people have been tip-toeing around him lately. But Bruce hasn't been like that. Bruce genuinely wants to help, not placate, the feelings his friend is experiencing.

"I know this is hard. Really hard. And-and I know what it's like to loose someone who's so, so important to your life. I know you don't want to talk about what happened, but it's been three weeks, and you have barely said a word to anyone. Tony, I swear I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. I-I don't want you doing something crazy."

Tony considers his words. Bruce thinks he's going to take the long sleep. Check out early. Snuff it. He can understand why Bruce would think that because over the past few weeks, he surely has. He knows it would be easy. He's got pills and chemicals and equipment that could end everything in a very short amount of time. Or jump from the conveniently high rooftop. The simplest way was usually the best, as it were. Though it would sure be the messiest. He takes a large gulp from his drink.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. Immediately Bruce's shoulders droop in relief. Tony might not be saying much, but at least he's saying _something_.

"Just talk about how you feel. Say whatever it is you're thinking. It's not healthy to keep all of those negative emotions bottled up like that. If anyone were to know about that, it would be me. It'll be good to get it off your chest."

"You want to know what's on my mind? How about the fact that the woman I loved, the woman who's been the first constant in my whole fucking life, just got killed because someone has it out for me! For just fucking once, I'd like to be able to just have something real without it being killed or destroyed or taken away." He stands up angrily, guzzling down the rest of his drink, and hurling the glass across the room. He turns again on Bruce. "People think I have it so fucking _easy_ just because I have money and a high IQ, but you and I both know that is bullshit. I still have feelings! I still love and breathe and eat and fuck, just like every other Goddamned person on the plant, but Heaven forbid Tony Stark have someone kind and loving and caring and wonderful in his life. God forbid he actually be happy, really and truly happy, with his life. No. Who the fuck was I kidding?"

Bruce sits in silence. Waiting for Tony to finish speaking his piece. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but Tony obviously sees something there.

"And another thing. I don't want your pity. I don't want you to feel sorry for me or bad for me or whatever else. This is my burden to bear. Not yours. You have no right!" He yells, getting in Bruce's face, poking him in the chest. "You have no right to make me talk about it or to make me feel like shit for talking about it. Either stay out of my business, or find someone else who will put up with you and your freak-show."

Tony instantly regrets his words the second they come out of his mouth. Bruce sucks in a gasp of shock and pain. His eyes fall from Tony's in shame, face reddening as he blushes from his ears to his neck. He stands up and pushes Tony out of his way. Distantly, Tony hears his bedroom door slam shut. He doesn't see Bruce for several hours.

When ten o'clock rolls around and Tony still hasn't seen Bruce, he decides to swallow his pride and go look for him and apologize to him himself. With a tentative knock on his bedroom door, Bruce answers after a few seconds, opening the door for him, but walking away to bed over something on the bed. It's a suitcase.

"What are you-?"

"I'm leaving. This Avengers thing isn't going to work out with me getting in the way. I've caused enough trouble as it is. For everyone."

"Where?"

"Hopefully somewhere that no one will find me. Somewhere remote. And island maybe. If I'm alone, I don't have to worry about hurting people or getting into people's business." He picks up his suitcase.

Hearing his own words thrown back at him stings. It mingles with the sting that has been there since Pepper.

"Bruce, please-"

Bruce cuts him off with a raised hand. "It's ok, Tony, really. I'm sure it's what most people think to themselves once they get to know me. It was just a matter of time before someone said it aloud."

And that, _that_ is what hurts the most. That is the last straw his frayed nerves can manage. He begins to cry. Honest to goodness tears of complete and utter sorrow. Unthinkingly, he latches himself on to Bruce, who drops his suitcase to hold an armful of Tony. Tony burrows his face into Bruce's neck and just cries and cries to the point that Bruce guides him to the bed to sit him down. Bruce unbuttons Tony's shirt, folding it neatly, and placing it on the nightstand. The shirt is joined by black slacks and well-worn sneakers. Tony watches him as tears stream silently from his eyes, wondering what he's doing in just an undershirt and boxers. Bruce peals back the sheet and comforter and gently pushes Tony into the mattress, tucking him in. He then toes off his own shoes and climbs in beside him, cradling his tired body.

"Shhhh. Shhhh," he soothes.

Bruce has never seen Tony so upset before. Sure he's seen his varying degrees of anger and sadness, but never one of this caliber. Bruce scoots his body so his front is molded to Tony's back. He gently runs his hand up and down his arm before wrapping it firmly around his waist, while the other plays with his hair, caresses his scalp. He places tentative kisses to the back of Tony's neck, his ear. He does this until the sobs finally come to jerky halt, until only a few hiccups come through. Bruce is relieved when he stills altogether. Slowly, Tony turns over in his arms to face him. Dewy brown eyes meet Bruce's green-brown ones. Tony reaches up a hand to cup the side of Bruce's face.

"Please don't leave." _Please don't leave me_.

"Ok."

Bruce carefully kisses his lips and holds him until he falls asleep. If he doesn't stay, who will?


End file.
